


It Wasn’t For HIM

by CuddlerOfDragons



Series: AU Season Four (Lucifer Didn't Kill Cain) [1]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-01 12:45:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 14,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17244443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuddlerOfDragons/pseuds/CuddlerOfDragons
Summary: What if Chloe interrupted Lucifer and Cain's fight, BEFORE Cain got stabbed?  (S3-E24)OK, so I might be flogging a dead horse here but I don't think anyone else has tried to go in this direction and suddenly my head is full of new possibilities...





	1. Prologue

 

 

“Someone’s been working out.” Lucifer said, flippantly, dancing back and making a show of playing with his cufflink.

His certainty of winning this fight enraged Cain and made him more determined to sink the Hell-forged blade as deep into the smug S.O.B as he could.

At least he managed to ruin The Devil’s jacket and, possibly, slash the flesh of his arm. That’s got to  _sting_ , at least.

Lucifer was tired of playing. He had Cain’s forearm in an unbreakable grip, the tip of the blade still pointed at his throat. So near and yet so far - Cain knew that no matter  _how_  much he ‘worked out’ he would  _never_  be strong enough to move the blade those few inches and end the bastard Morningstar.

“I promised you that I would find a way to…” Lucifer growled.

“Lucifer?” Chloe’s voice interrupted and, for an instant Cain thought he could win, after all.

Looking up and smiling at her, as she came down the steps, Lucifer casually tightened his grip and Cain felt the bones of his arm start to grind together and then, slowly, as if in a vice, they were crushed.

“ ** _Lucifer!_** Don’t kill him.” Chloe shouted, running towards them with her gun and her handcuffs ready.

The pain was excruciating, causing sweat to bead on his brow and the world to lose its brightness. Cain was going to faint.

He wanted to do something  _clever_  - pull out a backup weapon with his other hand, kick Lucifer in the shin -  _something_  to gain the advantage, now that Chloe was here and The Devil was vulnerable. Instead, the knife fell from fingers that he could no longer feel and his knees buckled, until it was only Lucifer’s hand on his arm that held him up.

“I’m sure you don’t need reminding that he tried to kill us.” Lucifer said to Chloe but Cain could barely hear over the sound of his own blood, pounding in his ears.

He felt Chloe snap a cuff on his left wrist and pull it behind his back.

“You can let go of him now, Lucifer.” She said and Cain experienced a moment of panic.

“Oh, very well, Detective.” Lucifer let go and Cain screamed.

His right hand flopped, uselessly, as if it was a joke hand on the end of an empty sleeve. He heard Chloe swear - how very unlike her - and, as he lost consciousness, all he could think of was that stupid box of compliments that Lopez had collected for him. Every scrap of paper saying variations of the same _inane_ thing.

Lt. Pierce has really nice arms…

***

 

 


	2. Chloe's interview

 

Chloe watched, her stomach unexpectedly rolling with nausea, as she realized that Lt. Pierce’s right hand was, to all intents and purposes, severed, only the skin and muscle of his lower arm stopping it from becoming completely detached.

“What did you do?” She breathed, shocked.

“Less than I would have if  _you_  hadn’t shown up when you did, Detective.” Lucifer said, bending down to pick up Maze’s blade.

Chloe knocked his hand aside, stopping him from touching it.

“ _Pierce_  dropped that. It’ll have his prints on it,  _proof_  that you were defending yourself.”

“It belongs to Maze. She was working with him; either she  _gave_  him that to kill me with, or he took it from her.”

“I can’t see her letting anyone just  _take_ it…”

“Very perceptive of you.” He looked at her and realized that she was staring at the bullet holes in his shirt. He buttoned his jacket, mindful of the impending backup and winced at the knife wound on his arm.

“You’re hurt.” Chloe said, her voice sounding odd.

“Just a scratch…” He started to say, then realized that she wasn’t looking at his  _arm_  but at the bloodied feathers that littered the floor. “Detective?” He whispered,  _his_  voice suddenly hoarse.

Chloe reached down to pick up a particularly large and broken feather that was close to her foot and…

…It wasn’t there.

She gasped and looked around her, realizing that  _all_  of the feathers were gone.

“Wha..?”

“It’s alright, Detective, my brother was here, that’s all. He cleared them all away.”

“Amenadiel..?” Chloe started to ask but was interrupted by a man’s voice yelling at them to freeze. Backup had arrived.

***

“…I was still talking to Dan and Ella when I heard the gunfire and I got back to the loft in time to see Lucifer disarming Pierce.” Chloe told the FBI agent who was getting her version of events.

“And Mr. Morningstar  _usually_  goes into these situations unarmed?” The man said, glancing at his notes.

“As far as I know, yeah. Wouldn’t want to spoil the line of his suit.” Chloe said, with a smile.

“The.. ah..  _knife_  recovered at the scene, which Pierce seemed to be using as a backup weapon, turns out to be the property of Mazikeen Smith, accomplished bounty hunter and  _your_  ex-roommate.”

“Yes. Lucifer and I both recognized it.”

“Would you happen to know her whereabouts?”

“No. She moved out. No forwarding address.”

“Did she give you a reason?”

“Not exactly; I got the feeling that she was dealing with something in her life that she wasn’t talking about. There were… arguments.” Chloe was starting to wonder where the man was going with this.

“And were you aware that Pierce had, apparently, moved out of his house and was camping out in a large industrial complex?”

“I knew he wasn’t at his house, I didn’t know where he’d moved to.”

“Do you think it’s in any way  _feasible_  that Mazikeen Smith might have tried to infiltrate Pierce’s organization, in order to take him down?”

“She  _does_  like a challenge but I don’t see how she could get Pierce to trust her, he knows who she  _is_.”

“We’ve recovered certain CCTV footage which suggests that this  _might_ have been the case. There’s nothing we’ve seen to support the idea that they were working together.”

“Is she alright?”

“I’m afraid that we haven’t located her yet. When did you first suspect that your fiancé was The Sinnerman?”

“I’d already broken off the engagement, so, when I found out that Charlotte Richards had been investigating Pierce, he  _wasn’t_ my fiancé. We found out  _after_  she was murdered.”

“And why  _did_  you break off your engagement?”

“It didn’t really… feel…  _right_. I’m not sure, it was…  _he_  was… I mean, he did nothing to make me think that he was, in any way,  _dirty_  but…”

“Gut feeling. Like with Malcolm Graham?”

“Yes. It just took me longer with Pierce. I almost made a huge mistake.”

“You did. Forensic evidence found at his house, proves that some of the rocks in his collection have blood traces. So far,  _two_  have been tied in with unsolved murders, where the victim was bludgeoned to death.”

“Have you interviewed him, yet?” Chloe didn’t even try to hide how sickened she was that she had invited a man  _that_  dangerous into her daughter’s life.

“Last I heard, he was still in surgery, my people at the hospital will keep me posted. You had  _no_  idea he was The Sinnerman?”

“Up until a few months ago,  _I_ thought The Sinnerman was an urban myth,  _then_  we thought the man was  _dead_ … Pierce orchestrated that whole thing?”

“Yes. We still don’t know the  _true_  identity of the man Pierce used as a scapegoat, despite there being meticulous files, in his house, on  _everything_  that his organization was doing. In Pierce’s case, there’s no way we won’t get a conviction. We’ll also have to take down all the corrupt cops and that’s where  _this_  comes in.” He produced a sheet of paper and got out a pen.

“What’s that? My statement can‘t be ready, yet.”

“It’s an agreement not to talk about  _any_  of this investigation with anyone who’s  _not_  on this list. Very few people in his organization  _knew_  that Pierce was the head honcho. We don‘t want them to know that we‘re coming for them.”

He listed names, the only surprise on the list was ‘Doctor Amenadiel Canaan’. Chloe queried it,  _without_  mentioning that he was Lucifer’s brother.

“He seems to have been working this case as a military consultant.  _He_  recruited Charlotte Richards  _and_ he provides Mr. Morningstar with his body armour. He was telling me about it, top secret experimental stuff.”

“That’s why Lucifer didn’t turn in his vest, for ballistics.” Chloe said, with as straight a face as she could manage.

“You were unconscious through  _most_  of the shooting and Dr. Canaan expressly forbad me to question Mr. Morningstar about  _that_ aspect of what happened, so I don’t know  _how_  he protected you.” He chuckled. “One of Pierce’s men was babbling about  _wings_.”

Chloe didn’t know what to say to that but, before the silence got awkward, the man’s phone bleeped. He took it out of his pocket and read the text message that had come in.

“You can go now. You and the others are on paid leave until further notice.  _I_  have to be at the hospital. Pierce got out of surgery. They couldn’t save the arm.”

***

 


	3. Scaring the FBI

 

 

He didn’t know how long it had been, he only knew that the bleeping was getting on his nerves and that he was in pain.

Not volcano levels of pain, more  _chainsaw_ , except that chainsaw usually didn’t hurt for this long. How long had it been?

He tried to stretch, take stock of his body. His legs felt fine but when it came to his arms…

Both were restrained. His left felt as though it was handcuffed to the side of his bed and the right was… elevated? They do that for  _injuries_ , don’t they? He’d seen it… other people’s injuries, obviously but, yeah, he’d seen it. It was something they did for you, in hospital.

The FBI guy had been by. Hey, that rhymes, needs work, though. The FBI guy was stupid, kept asking the wrong questions, then someone had made him leave, a nurse or a doctor or someone. He couldn’t quite remember. Everything was fuzzy.

How long had he been here?

***

Agent Denis York was quietly terrified. Ever since he’d had the phone call from his old friend, Daniel Espinoza, telling him that a police lieutenant in the LAPD was actually the head of a vast criminal organization and was controlling a network of dirty cops, _he_ \- Big Bad Federal Agent - was shitting himself with fear.

The Sinnerman. It was like waking up and finding out that the Boogieman was not only  _real_  but that  _you_  were expected to deal with him. Add in the notion that countless police officers would be working  _against_ you and you couldn’t tell which ones…

Scratch that. It was more like one of those cheesy sci-fi things, where people you  _thought_  you knew were  _actually_  shape shifting aliens who would happily kill you, the moment your back was turned.

He’d woken up in an episode of ‘The X-Files‘.

On the upside, if he could take these people down - with _out_  getting killed - well, at the very  _least_  he’d have plenty of material for that book he’d been meaning to write…

He could only hope that the plan he had come up with, would work.

Chloe Decker bothered him ( _she_  wasn‘t going to like The Plan). Okay, he admitted he didn’t know her  _that_  well - he’d seen ‘Hot Tub High School’, met her, briefly, before the wedding  _and_ convinced Dan to blow off wedding plan stuff to see ‘Body Bags 6’ with him - he hadn’t seen her  _or_  Dan, for that matter, since their divorce. Work commitments were a bitch. He hadn’t even seen Dan when they’d spoken on the phone, last year, regarding Charlotte Richards and a large amount of high grade coke. The same Charlotte Richards that Dan had been planning on marrying, before Pierce shot and killed her. Allegedly.

“I want to keep this professional, Ms. Decker.” He had said, as he’d deftly made sure that she and her ludicrously named civilian consultant were driven off in separate cars.

“Of course, Agent York.” She had said. “I suppose Dan called you. Someone he could trust.” He had nodded.

She had then behaved as though they were strangers, throughout the debriefing/interrogation. Very professional but he was fairly sure that she was hiding something.

She knew a secret and  _he_  didn’t think that it had to do with Pierce.

Maybe to do with Dr. Canaan?  _He’d_  been an unexpected complication - his I.D. checked out, though and he’d sounded very knowledgeable, talking about genetically modified organic fibres. He shouldn’t be telling him how to run an investigation, though, what questions he could or couldn’t ask Morningstar…

Lucifer Morningstar.

 _There_  was a piece of work. He had sat in interrogation, exuding confidence and filling Agent York with equal parts of irritation, fear and lust. He tried to analyze the feelings.

Lust: York was a zero on the Kinsey Scale but, if the infinitely annoying and terrifying Lucifer Morningstar were to flutter those unfeasibly long eyelashes at him and ask him to drop to his knees, he was fairly sure that he would  _and_  be grateful for the privilege…

The man was a walking nightmare. York watched the other people around them, watching Morningstar and realized that everyone had  _some_  kind of unnatural reaction and, for some reason,  _he_  was the only one who could see it. How did it work?

Genetically modified pheromones?

Fear: York flashed back to the conversation he’d had with the surgeon who’d operated on Pierce. The pre-op X-rays that had shown both bones of his lower arm - from below the elbow, to just before the wrist joint - crushed almost to powder.

‘ _Like a car ran over it?’_ He’d asked.

 _‘No. More like equal pressure all the way around. Like sticking his arm in some sort of machinery that evenly pinches metal pipes. Somehow **without**  breaking the skin.’ _The surgeon had replied, sounding confident that this would turn out to be an industrial accident.

‘What if I told you that a  **man**  did this, with his bare hands?’

 _‘A man could **maybe**  do this, to a small child, or to someone with a bone deficiency but to  **him**? No. An anaconda  **might**  be able to exert that kind of pressure but  **not**  a man.’ _The surgeon had sounded so  _sure_.

Irritation: York had interrogated suspects, before, who thought it was a good idea to be annoying but Morningstar completely raised the bar. Throughout his account of what had gone on in the loft, he had given York the feeling that he was being toyed with, that  _he_ , Lucifer Morningstar, was, in  _every_  way a superior species.

Maybe there  _were_  shape shifting aliens, after all…

***


	4. Dan, Ella and a hit-man in the trunk

 

 

“…or maybe I  _do_  know. Maybe, I've been avoiding the biggest truth this whole…” Chloe’s voice on the phone was drowned in distant gunfire. Dan and Ella both winced. “..I have to go.”

“Chloe,  _don't_  go in there without backup.” Dan shouted but Chloe had ended the call.

“We didn’t get to tell her…” Ella said, falling silent as she remembered the enemy was probably listening.

“It can’t be helped. We have to stick with the plan.” Dan said.

They hustled their hostage into the elevator and down to the parking garage. As they were preparing to load the man into the trunk of the car, one of the Lux bartenders walked by, on his way in to work.

“Hey, Dan, Ella, how’s it going?” He said, as the bound and gagged hit-man tried to get his attention.

“Fine, fine.” Dan said, “You?”

“Yeah, great. I guess  _that’s_ work related?” He nodded to their squirming captive.

“Yeah. Work. See you around.” Dan said, pushing ’work related’ backwards into the trunk.

***

They left him in there, when they got to Pierce’s house.

“You sure you’re okay with this?” Dan asked Ella, as they made their way to the door. “It’s not like we’ve got a  _warrant_.”

“Good thing it’s not locked, then, isn’t it?” She said, whipping out her kit and picking the lock, frighteningly fast. “Are you sure your friend’s right about this?”

“He does profiling, he says he knows the type. Arrogant, manipulative, consider themselves smarter than anyone else, above suspicion. He’ll want his records close and he won’t trust computers. Plus, I saw file cabinets when I was here, before.”

“For the ‘Heartbreak’ thing?”

“Yeah, in this room, here.”

“What were you doing in  _here_? I thought they set up in the main room.”

“I was snooping, told  _him_  I was looking for the bathroom. I  _never_  trusted him.”

As Dan said, the room was full of file cabinets, lining the walls. Ella whistled.

“I’ll get ‘em unlocked,  _you_  start looking through the files.” She said, doing the first one, then repeating with the others. By the time she had them all open, Dan had already found what he’d been prioritizing and was on the phone to his old friend Denis.

Pierce’s files on the FBI agents; paid by the government but working for  _him_. Once he had been assured that his hand-picked team were  _not_  on The Sinnerman’s list, Agent York was happy to brief them  _properly_  and send them to work on the  _biggest_  conspiracy in history.

“Oh, great, man, I really owe you. Thanks.” Dan said, cutting the connection.

“Everything okay?” Ella asked, looking up from where she had found files on co-workers.

“Yeah. Chloe’s on her way to the hospital, as a precaution, she got shot but her vest took the brunt of it. Lucifer’s fine and Pierce… Pierce is on his way to the E.R, with, I quote, ‘A real gnarly broken arm’, courtesy of Lucifer.”

“ _Go_ , Luce.  _How_  gnarly?”

“They're taking him straight into surgery. Seriously, Den said it made  _him_  queasy, so it must have been bad.”

“Den and Dan, bet you two were a  _riot_  in high school.”

“Terrible twins - even though we look nothing alike, obviously.” Den was taller than Dan and considerably blonder. “Hey, what’s up?” Ella had made a strange choking sound.

“There’s files on all of  _us_. Mine says that my brothers can be used as leverage against me.”

“What does  _mine_  say?”

“You don’t want to know…”

Dan snatched his file and flipped through it. He’d never  _officially_  owned up to Palmetto, so  _that_ wasn’t in there but the other stuff… the file ended with the conclusion that he was too much of a ’confession risk’ for The Sinnerman Network and was, therefore, expendable.

“I guess I already knew, after all, he did  _try_  to have me expended.”

“Son of a  _bitch_  - how could I have been so  _wrong_  about him?”

“It wasn’t just  _you_ , the suits that employed him and Chicago PD,  _they_  didn’t notice, either.”

“He had such a great rep., suspicious in itself, I guess. No one could be  _that_  perfect.”

Dan was staring at her, wondering at her definition of  _perfect_ , when they heard a large vehicle pull up outside. Den and the rest of his team had arrived.

***

“How’s Chloe?” Was the first thing that Dan asked him.

“Still at the hospital. You know how slow they move when you’re not seriously hurt - like to make you feel like you’re  _wasting_  their precious time - she can’t leave, though, wouldn’t want to invalidate her career based health insurance.” He said, grinning. “She’ll be fine, she might have cracked a bone and she’ll have a hell of a bruise. One of my people is waiting with her, she’ll drive her back when she’s done there. Meanwhile,  _I_  get to interview Morningstar.”

“Good luck with  _that_.” Dan said. He rummaged in the pile of paperwork in his hand. “Here’s a list of other local properties that Pierce had an interest in; a list of officers at the precinct who  _can’t_  be trusted - shorter than I thought it would be -  _thankfully_ ; and a list of people in Internal Affairs who can’t be trusted. Oh and the FBI ones, of course.”

“Yeah. Not looking forward to  _that_. Here’s how I’m gonna play it at the precinct: I’m gonna let everyone think that  _Pierce_  - furious because Chloe broke up with him - set up her and Lucifer to walk into the middle of a gang war.  _That_  way,  _he’s_  the only  _police_  suspect and the rest of the dirty cops might relax a bit. Chances are they don’t know who he is, anyway. The Sinnerman is a faceless crime boss, he’s hardly gonna be telling his work colleagues who he is. In fact, it’s probable that he hasn’t approached  _any_ of them, in person, at all. What’s the point of having a secret identity, if you tell people who you  _are_?”

“But…” Dan started.

“I know. Charlotte  _will_  get justice and Pierce  _will_ go down for the rest of his life, I promise you.  _This_  is just to give us some breathing space. The last thing we need is a bunch of dirty cops, panicking and doing something stupid. We want to get out of this alive.”

“Agreed. Chloe and Lucifer will be pissed, though.”

“Can’t be helped. I’m gonna go check out these other properties. Morningstar can sweat for a bit. Oh and have forensics check out the rocks in this room.” He said, looking around at them.

“Why  _these_  ones? The house is  _full_  of rocks.”

“Because, Danny-boy, the ones out  _there_  all have a certain amount of beauty or interest, the ones in  _here_  are dull, boring and the one over there looks like it has a blood stain on it. See, in the crack?”

“Good  _call_.” Ella said, impressed. “I’ll go out to the car and get my kit. Oh, we have a hit-man in the trunk.”

“Alive?“ Ella nodded. “Perfect, I’ll interrogate  _him_  first.”

“He’s the one who sent Chloe and Lucifer into Pierce’s trap. He knows who Pierce is.” Dan said.

“That means he’s quite high up in the organization. Good break. I‘ll keep you posted.”

***

 


	5. Lucifer's interview

“You’re hurt.” Chloe said, her voice sounding odd.

“Just a scratch…” He started to say, then realized that she wasn’t looking at his  _arm_  but at the bloodied feathers that littered the floor. “Detective?” He whispered,  _his_  voice suddenly hoarse.

Chloe reached down to pick up a particularly large and broken feather that was close to her foot and…

…Froze.

“Well, Luci, it looks like I can’t leave you alone for two minutes before you’re getting into trouble.” Amenadiel said, folding  _his_  wings and looking around at the carnage left by  _Lucifer’s_. “Can you fly, Brother?” He added, sympathy touching his voice.

“Am I going somewhere?” Lucifer managed to ask, before Amenadiel scooped him up and flew him a safe distance away from Chloe.

“Wings out.” He all but ordered, as soon as he’d set his brother on his feet.

Lucifer looked around at the deserted helipad before complying. His feathers were broken and bloody but he could already feel himself healing.

“Good flap, now. Get the bullets out before you heal around them.”

He stood there, flapping, as if he was a fledgling testing the strength of his wings before taking to the skies for the first time. Bullets tinkled as they fell around him.

“That’s it, keep going until they’re all out, I’ll go back and start on the clean up. Join me when you’re done.”

“Don’t touch any of the weapons, Brother.” Lucifer said, as Amenadiel prepared to leave. “The Detective will need them as evidence.”

***

Amenadiel had almost finished, by the time Lucifer flew back, his wings perfect again.

“You didn’t  _kill_  Cain, then.” He said, compressing the last of the feathers into an empty bag he’d found at the scene.

“The Detective interrupted me, otherwise I probably  _would_  have. He ordered his men to shoot us both and yet she  _still_  didn’t want him dead.” He glanced down at the floor. “He had Maze’s blade.”

“She didn’t  _give_  it to him.”

“He took it from her? Then  _she’s_  dead.” Lucifer said, a tinge of sadness in his voice, despite what Maze had put him through, lately.

“No. She’s woken up to herself, though. She got damaged but not irrevocably.”

“How do you…”

“We’ll talk later, Brother. Right now,  _you’re_  too busy.” With that, he unfurled his wings and left.

Chloe gasped and looked around her, realizing that all of the feathers were gone.

“Wha..?”

“It’s alright, Detective, my brother was here, that’s all. He cleared them all away.”

“Amenadiel..?” Chloe started to ask but was interrupted by a man’s voice yelling at them to freeze. Backup had arrived.

***

“It’s alright, Lucifer,” Chloe said, when he baulked at the two of them in separate cars. “It’s standard procedure. I’ll see you later.”

He supposed it made sense - put two suspects together and they had a chance to make sure their stories matched - but when he realized that Chloe’s car was headed somewhere else…

“Where is he taking The Detective?” He asked the agent driving him.

“Huh? Oh,  _Decker_ ; she’s making a side trip to the hospital.”

Of course. Lucifer thought, his heart heavy, she’ll be concerned about Cain. He remembered her frantic shout for him  _not_  to kill the man. Her horrified voice when she asked:  _‘What did you do?’_ on seeing Cain’s arm.

He was silent for the rest of the car journey.

***

He quickly found out that interview rooms were nowhere near as much  _fun_ when you were on the ‘wrong’ side. Bad enough that he’d been left waiting for hours but they’d taken his  _flask_ as well. In exchange, he’d been offered a choice of either substandard coffee or water. It what sense was  _that_  a fair deal?

He could, of course, leave at any time but he was fairly sure that The Detective would not only disapprove but she would also have to face the displeasure of the FBI. Alone. He stayed. Eventually, someone came.

“Well, hel-lo.” Lucifer purred, when Agent York walked into the room. He’d made himself comfortable, while he’d been waiting, draped across the chair, with his feet on the table, looking - if he said so himself - sexy as Hell. It didn’t hurt to keep people off balance, after all.

“You can stop that.” York said sternly, thoroughly disconcerted by the way the man’s voice raised the hair follicles all over his body.

“Stop what, Darling?” Lucifer asked, lacing his vocals with as much faux innocence as he could manage.

“You know very well  _what_  and it’s Agent York, to you.”

“I’ve seen  _you_  somewhere before.” Lucifer said, eyeing him.

“Mm, that would be at the crime scene, earlier today.”

“No. Well, yes but  _before_  that… you were younger… wearing a robe and one of those flat, square hats and you were standing next to…” Lucifer’s eyes were slightly out of focus, as if he was looking through his memory. “A very  _young_  Detective Douche.” He finished, snapping back to reality. “You were at school with Daniel.” He stated.

“Yes.” York hated how dazed his voice sounded.

“I probably saw the photograph when I dropped the Spawn off, once.”

“Spawn?” Curiosity got the better of him.

“The offspring? The small human? The child?  _Beatrice_.” Lucifer clarified.

“I bet she  _loves_  you.” York muttered, sarcastically, under his breath.

“She seems to, yes. All that unfortunate hugging, sticky fingers all over my suits…”

“So you and Detective Decker are..?”

“No. But I  _am_ on the list of approved adults, at Beatrice’s school. Tell me, Agent York,” The way his name sounded in Lucifer’s mouth made things tighten, low down in York’s body. “When did Daniel call you?”

“When he discovered that his murdered fiancée had been investigating Lt. Pierce as The Sinnerman.”

“They were engaged?”

“Well,  _no_  but Dan was working up to it.”

“He told  _you_  about Ca.. Pierce  _before_  he told the rest of us?”

“Yes. He knew I’d need time to get a team organized.”

“And he didn’t know if  _we’d_  believe him. You  _did_?”

“Yes. I looked up the file on The-so-called-Sinnerman, after Dan called, it was too… neat… too… open and shut. Pierce came across all wrong…” He suddenly realized that this interview was happening the wrong way round. Morningstar was interviewing  _him_.

“So, what did you want to ask  _me_ , Agent York?” Lucifer asked, with a smirk, as though reading his mind.

“First, I’d like to ask you about  _this_.” He put the clear plastic evidence bag down on the table. The strange curved knife that Pierce had tried to use on Lucifer, was in it.

“Hell-forged, one of a pair, owned by my ex-right-hand demon, Mazikeen.”

“The bounty hunter Mazikeen Smith?” York asked, ignoring the rest.

“That  _is_  what she’s calling herself, these days. Your society...” He shook his head, as if in wonder. “So insistent on a last name, as if there would be  _two_  demons called Mazikeen.”

“So, Pierce would have got it from her.” York said, ignoring the implication that the country’s top bounty hunter was using a false name.

“Yes.”

“We know that she was held prisoner at Pierce’s hideout  _and_  that she is responsible for taking out twelve of his people…”

“ _Did_  she.” Lucifer sounded proud.

“The CCTV footage is very… graphic. She defended herself, armed  _only_  with what she could improvise. It is a  _very_  clear case of self-defence. Her use of deadly force was completely justified. Would you have any idea of her whereabouts?”

“I’m afraid not, no. I lost track of her once she moved out of The Detective’s apartment.”

York sighed.

“It was a long shot. I’m hoping we can recruit her to help with some of the more…  _difficult_ members of The Sinnerman network. We need to take out the ones at the top, first.“

He explained the cover story and Lucifer seemed to understand the necessity of keeping quiet about Pierce’s Sinnerman connection. “Back to the knife,” He said, realizing that he’d got sidetracked again. “The  _clearest_  prints on it - meaning the most recent - are Pierce’s, likewise the empty gun that was found on the floor. He was using this as a back-up weapon?”

“Yes. After he emptied his gun, he pulled that. Were his fingerprints already on record or did  _you_  have to..?”

“I had to print him at the hospital, before he went into surgery.” He couldn’t repress a shudder that went through him at the memory of Pierce’s right hand, flopping at sickeningly unnatural angles on an arm that felt like warm, lumpy jell-o. “Ballistics pulled a bullet from Decker’s gun, out of Pierce’s body armour. What was the sequence of events..?”

***

 

　

　

 


	6. Sleep deprivation and revelations

His anger was white hot. Now that he was no longer groggy from the anaesthetic, he could see and understand what Lucifer had done to him. What remained of his right arm throbbed and he could still feel the fingers that were no longer there - would  _never_ be there again - all because he had lost his mark.

All the centuries that he had wanted the mark gone,  _this_ eventuality had never occurred to him. Death, yes; an end to his suffering, a Heavenly reward for his guilt free existence but not  _this_. Mutilation; what is euphemistically called a ‘life changing injury’, something that would have rapidly  _grown back_ a few short weeks ago.

Decker did this to him. Yes, Lucifer  _caused_  the injury but it was  _Decker’s_ fault. Stupid bitch, breaking his curse and then rejecting him.

 _Why_  had she rejected him?  _How_? He was  _good_ at this, he had had millennia of practice and compared to  _him,_ Chloe was barely a child and children are  _easy_ to manipulate.

Okay, it was fairly obvious - to  _him_ , if not to her - that she was in love with Lucifer but Cain had broken up relationships, before and Chloe was very career orientated, so  _that_ had given him an ‘in’ and how  _easy_  it had been to drive a wedge between her and her partner.

He tried to remember the last time he had had a long term relationship… Maybe  _that_ was it, he was out of practice - he hadn’t done long term in  _eons_  - waking up every day, wondering if  _today_ would be the day that his wife would realize that he wasn’t aging or would see something to make her suspicious… It was all just too demanding and demoralizing, far easier not to bother. A few meaningless flings before he settled - for a few years at a time - in new areas. The world was a big place and if he let sixty years or so pass before he returned… and if someone thought they remembered him, well, he could always pretend to be his own son; after all, it worked for inheritance.

There seemed to be a lot of doctors visiting his bedside, lately. Was that normal? The last time he’d been in - futile attempt at death by shotgun - he’d had to discharge himself pretty quick, before anyone saw that he’d healed. Followed by the pain-in-his-ass of pretending to change dressings, wincing when he moved and, ultimately, never stripping in front of  _Decker_ , even though they were fu…

“…Mr. Pierce?” It sounded as though the doctor had been trying to get his attention for some time.

“What?” He growled.

“Your blood tests are showing some unusual results, who was your doctor before you moved here?”

“Go to Hell.” He spat, switching his gaze from what was left of his arm, to the ceiling and refusing to speak to any of them.

***

“So tell me, Agent York, what is it that you truly desire?” Lucifer’s eyes were all he could see, twin black holes that York was orbiting.

“I… want… to…” He couldn’t say it, he  _couldn’t_ , it wasn’t  _him_. “Suck you until you turn inside out.” He gasped, finally.

“Well, Darling, I’m  _always_ happy to oblige.”

With no memory of how he had gotten there, York was on his knees and Morningstar was unzipping and already hard. His erection sprang free and York could feel the heat radiating from it and see the red scarred flesh and he looked up into eyes that burned with scarlet flames…

He jerked awake with a yelp.

“Bad dream?” Lucifer asked.

York looked around the interview room in an instant of panic. He can’t have been asleep long but a lot had changed. For a start his head had been resting on a sinfully soft pillow, encased in black silk. He blushed when he realized that he’d drooled on it.

Then there was the smell. Wonderful and probably expensive coffee and positively divine chicken soup. In the centre of the table on a tray. With a napkin. And a rose.

“Wha..?”

“You were clearly exhausted, so I popped out for supplies.”

“How long was I..?”

“Oh, no more than twenty minutes. I have some small experience with sleep deprivation.” He looked haunted for a second. “After your.. ah.. power nap, I thought you might be hungry. If the coffee doesn’t wake you up, I have something a little… _faster_.”

“I’m not starting down  _that_ slippery slope, I’ve seen too many good people ruined by it. Thanks for the offer, though  _and_ for all of this. Where did you get the pillow?”

“From my bedroom, of course. Eat your soup while it’s still warm.”

***

Flashback

“Sorry to keep you waiting, I wasn‘t expecting you to come back in.”

“I thought I should, after seeing you yesterday. I think that you have more to say to me, Agent York.” Lucifer didn’t sound quite as confident, today.

York swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry.

“I have copies of some of Pierce’s files and various statements that I’d like to go over with you.” He’d done quite a bit of research overnight.

“And you have questions? I’ll do my best to answer them and I will be  _entirely_ truthful. I always am.”

“Unlike your brother?”

“Amenadiel? You’ve had the dubious pleasure?”

“Yes. I’m guessing - based on what I read in Pierce’s files - that Dr. Canaan  _doesn’t_  work for a military lab that genetically modifies fibres to weave into high-end bullet proof suits.”

“That’s quite creative, for him.” Lucifer laughed. “Daniel taking him to improv classes must have paid off.”

“Moving right along.” York said, with a sigh, “While I was trying to establish a timeline, I came across a reported ‘incident’ between you and Pierce. After which, according to  _some_ statements,  _you_ managed to disappear out of a holding cell.” Agent York watched Lucifer’s reaction, carefully.

“Yes.” Lucifer said, looking straight into York’s eyes.

“Allow me to quote: ‘ _It was totally bogus. Lt. Pierce was squealing like a pussy that Lucifer was attacking him, trying to kill him. So we took Lucifer to a holding cell but, and I can’t speak for the others, but **I’m**  sure that if Lt. Pierce had been in any danger, he would have been fighting back, not just… flapping... it wasn’t  **believable** , you know, Pierce can’t act worth a damn._’ Is that an accurate assessment?”

“Yes. I was poking him a bit to see what I could get him to admit.”

“So, what about the rest: ‘ _I went down to let him out, around an hour later but he’d gone. The door was still locked and no one saw him leave.’_ How  _did_ you get out?”

“I  _could_ have just opened the door but I didn’t want anyone to tell Pierce that I’d left, so I flew.” Lucifer’s gaze never wavered, either he was the world’s best liar or he was telling the truth.

“You’re saying that you can  _fly_ out of a locked room.”

“How much do you know about the atomic structure of solid objects?”

“Not enough to argue the point.” York said and Lucifer shrugged.

“Then there’s  _Pierce’s_ file on you. It reads as though he believes that you are the  _actual_ Devil.” York continued.

“There’s a very big hint in my name, Darling.” Lucifer said, relaxing back into his chair and maintaining eye contact.

“Yes.”

“Did you spend the night wondering why no one else can see it?”

“No. I wondered that to  _begin_ with but then…”

“You wondered why  _you_ were the only one who  _could_.”

“Yes.”

“You’re not, of course, the  _only_ one. There  _have_ been others that knew, instinctively, without having to be shown. True believers.”

“I lost my faith in God a  _long_ time ago.”

“You and me both, Darling but the deep seated knowledge, the  _truth_ of it remains. You‘re not going to panic or do something silly, are you?”

“I don’t think so. I’m actually  _more_ concerned about Pierce. He writes about a curse that he wanted Detective Decker to break?”

“The mark of Cain. He found immortality tiresome.”

“Why Decker? He writes that she makes  _you_ bleed.”

“I think,  _now_ , that it’s a matter of belief. My therapist said…” Lucifer breaks off as York starts laughing. “What?”

“Sorry… it’s just…  _The_  Actual  _Devil_ moves to L.A. and goes into therapy… it’s just…”

“Yes. Well.  _She_ said that it’s about vulnerability and taking back control, only somehow it went the wrong way and The Detective shot me and I bled…”

“So Pierce  _was_ immortal and now he isn’t and he changed his mind about wanting to die?”

“Yes but it wasn’t really The Detective’s fault, Cain did it to himself.”

“Can we just stick with calling him Pierce?” Lucifer nods. “He writes that he convinced you he wanted to die by getting you to ‘ _ask him’_. What exactly did he mean by that?”

“Would you like a demonstration?”

York nodded. Lucifer looked into his eyes and asked him what he truly desired.

Agent York, sitting the other side of the table, gazed into Lucifer’s eyes and told him the literal truth:

“I want to sleep and I want to get through this case without dying.” Then, he put his head down on his arm and let exhaustion take him.

***

Now

He’d almost finished Lucifer’s excellent chicken soup and was feeling ready to face the world again, when his phone rang…

***

 

 


	7. True believers

It had been a weird night, perfect end to a weird day. She’d been shot, woken up on a helipad and had a moment of clarity. She’d stopped the man she loved from killing the man she used to be engaged to and  _then_ kicked her heels at the hospital for hours, waiting to be X-rayed.

She’d been debriefed by an FBI man who was in high-school with her ex-husband and who steadfastly pretended  _not_ to know her, for the benefit of the interview.

She’d gotten home - hurting and exhausted - in time to relieve the babysitter, eat a slice of lukewarm pizza, take the painkillers the hospital gave her and - needing the closeness - crawl into bed with Trixie.

The dreams had been strange.

Blood and bullets and a wall of white and Lucifer screaming…

Blue sky behind him, as he looked at her, his anguish turning to relief, as he realized she’d been wearing body armour…

Whooshing sounds as he vanished between one blink and another…

The squashed nightmare that used to be Pierce’s arm…

Bloodstained feathers.

Everywhere.

Then  _gone_ as though they had never been…

Somewhere a phone was ringing. She should probably answer that.

Later.

***

“That was one of the agents guarding Pierce, at the hospital. He’s taken a turn for the worse.” York said, putting his phone back in his pocket. “You wanna come?” He looked up, expectantly.

“Wouldn’t miss it.  _I’ll_ drive, shall I?” Lucifer stood up, smoothly, inhumanly graceful and York wondered, yet again, how anyone could think him  _human_.

He was still fumbling his keys out of his pocket when Lucifer started the car and made a joke about turning things on. York rolled his eyes and realized that, since his nightmare, he no longer felt either fear  _or_ lust for Lucifer Morningstar. That just left irritation and he found he could live with that.

“So,” He asked, tentatively. “What’s the deal with ‘true believers’, do they all..?”

“No. Ms. Lopez is a true believer but  _she_ thinks I’m a method actor. Possibly because she likes to question… everything.”

“And Detective Decker?”

“Atheist. She’d have to  _see_ …”

“Dan’s  _Catholic_.”

“Lapsed. Thinks I’m a dick.”

“He mentioned that, yeah but he still considers you a  _friend_.  _No one_ I talked to at the precinct had a bad word to say about you.”

Lucifer smiled and the inside of the car got a little brighter.

“I save my  _less_ friendly side for the criminal element.”

“I read enough files, overnight, to figure out that you can change the way you look.”

“ _Could_ change the way I look. It’s not been working, of late.” Lucifer sounded bitter and York didn’t enquire further.

“And Mazikeen Smith is a demon. That certainly explains her fighting skills. Incredible.” York tried, instead.

“Why thank you, Denis. I taught her everything she knows. It actually made quite a useful discipline for  _me_ as well - fighting without wings - of course  _I’m_ not allowed to kill humans. Dad frowns on it.”

“Some of the gunmen at the crime scene were dead…”

“Killed by each other, I’m afraid.  _I_ can’t help it if tackling one of them causes his trigger finger to depress…” Lucifer shrugged.

“One of the survivors mentioned  _wings_. They’re bullet proof?”

“Usually  _all_ of me is.”

“But not when Detective Decker…”

“Is in range. No. I can actually die, then.”

“Because you  _love_ each other? That’s… unfair. Or is thatsomething  _else_ your father ‘frowns on‘?” York was having his worst opinions of God confirmed.

“I love  _her_.” Lucifer said, as though the words were forcing their way out against his will. “She doesn’t love me.”

“According to Pierce, she  _does_. His personal file on  _her_ outlines how  _easy_ it was to spoil your partnership at work but how  _hard_ it was for himto manipulate her into loving  _him_. You should also know that his plan was for Mazikeen to murder him and frame you…” He glanced up from the file and saw the muscles in Lucifer’s jaw twitching. “If it helps, Pierce details how  _he_ approached  _her_ , so it  _is_ possible that she was gaining his trust, in order to take him down. He did drug her and chain her up - not the way allies  _usually_ behave.”

“I won’t know for sure, until I talk to her.”

“And Detective Decker?”

“If she loves  _me_ so much,” Lucifer growled, “Why was she so quick to follow  _him_ to the hospital and, doubtless, sit by his bedside..?”

“It wasn’t for  _him_ ; she had to go to the hospital because she got  _shot_. Even with a vest there’s a risk of injury - cracked ribs, even  _concussion_ , if you get knocked into something by the impact - it’s policy to have X-rays, for the health insurance. Turns out she just has pain and a bad bruise. She certainly wasn’t sitting by his bed,  _he_ was still in surgery when she got released.”

“These  _personal_ files…” Lucifer started to say, wondering how embarrassing they would be for The Detective.

“…Are completely irrelevant to the investigation and  _will_ be disappearing. You can read them first, if you want.” York understood immediately. “There are…  _Sinnerman_  files, which absolve you and  _most_ of your colleagues of any involvement in Pierce’s corruption.  _They_ need to be submitted.”

“Agreed.” Lucifer said, taking his eyes off the road and looking at York. “You’re not afraid of me any more.” He sounded puzzled.

“Now that I  _know_ … You’re not…  _It’s_ not… You’ve been here nearly eight years and, as far as I can tell, you’ve  _not_ … why  _are_ you here?” York tried to put it into words but found that he couldn’t.

“On Earth for the pleasure, in L.A. for the irony and the weather, with the LAPD for the fun and the satisfaction of punishing the guilty  _before_ they die and in  _your_ car, right now, because  _you’re_ not in any condition to drive. Contrary to popular belief, stealing souls doesn’t even rate a mention.” He smirked at that part.

“Pleasure?”

“Sex, music, books, films, food, alcohol, drugs…”

“You can’t get those things in Hell?”

“Not as freely. I’m  _trying_ to retire.”

“I’m guessing that’s ‘ _frowned on’_ too.”

“Until He tells me to my face, I’m assuming nothing.” Lucifer said, smoothly backing the car into a parking bay outside the hospital.

***

 

 

 


	8. Reunions

 

“Lucifer?” He and York were waiting for the elevator when Chloe’s voice behind him lit up every nerve ending in his body.

“Detective? What brings  _you_ here?” Lucifer asked, as Chloe went to hug him then noticed Agent York and didn‘t.

“One of the doctors treating Pierce called me.” She said, as if it didn’t matter at all, compared to seeing  _him_. “I’ve been calling  _you_ … your phone went straight to voicemail… I thought you’d, maybe… I called Lux, no one had seen you…”

“You thought I’d left, again?” He asked, gently.

Chloe nodded.

“Mister Morningstar has been answering questions…” York said, trying to help.

“Are we still pretending not to know each other, Den?”

“No. It’s fine. The doctor called you in for Pierce, yes?”

“He wants to talk to me - the doctor, not Pierce - I’m not sure how I can help, though.”

“Can I sit in on that?” York asked.

“You both can.” Chloe said, looking at Lucifer.

***

“Ms. Decker, I understand that, until recently, you were engaged to my patient.”

“Yes.” Chloe replied, feeling very uncomfortable, sitting across the desk from Pierce’s doctor but happy that Lucifer was with her.

“And that he came to L.A. from Chicago?”

“Yes.” Chloe wondered where this was heading.

“We haven’t been able to get  _any_ medical records for him, at all. Chicago PD have nothing. It’s like he either, is using an assumed name  _or_ he’s never been sick in his life and not only  _that_ , has never even been vaccinated. Did he grow up in an isolated religious community, maybe?”

“I… he never talked about his past… he said he had a brother who… died.”

Chloe missed the look that York gave Lucifer and the tiny nod that Lucifer gave in return.

“He didn’t say anything about his immune system being compromised?”

“What, like HIV?” Chloe was shocked.

“No, nothing like  _that,_ he  _has_ a functional immune system but it’s  _wrong_.”

“Explain.” Lucifer said, coldly, realizing that Chloe was getting upset.

“It’s like… he’s immune to the wrong things… like… have you ever heard of a ‘virgin soil epidemic‘?”

“Yeah,” York said. “It’s when a group of isolated people get exposed to a different group of people and end up dying from viruses that the second group just shake off. It happened when the Americas were settled from Europe. Deliberately, in some cases.”

“Yes. As if Pierce grew up where, for example, the common cold virus didn’t exist and then moved away from  _there_ , to a place where it  _did_.”

“You’re saying that he could die from… a cold?” Chloe asked, finding this hard to reconcile with a man as seemingly strong as Pierce.

“I’m saying, he’s like a one man virgin soil epidemic and  _you_ have to prepare yourself for the worst possible outcome. I‘m very sorry.” The doctor was using his best ‘delivering bad news to family members’ voice but Chloe wasn’t impressed.

“Can’t you put him in isolation?”

“We did, as soon as we realized but it was too late. It was too late,  _weeks_ ago. Ms. Decker, are you absolutely sure that he’s been in L.A. for as many months as the FBI are saying?”

“It’s a matter of record, when he transferred. He was even in  _this_ hospital, with a gunshot wound, not long after he started working here.”

“Yes. If he hadn’t discharged himself, against medical advice, we might have found out about this problem sooner. If he even  _had_ it, then.”

“What do you mean by that? You said it wasn’t… acquired.” Agent York said. “If you’re worried about lawsuits…”

“I  _mean_ , that, although it seems he’s been this way his  _whole_ life, it’s only recently that it has manifested as a  _problem_. Did something happen to him? Over the course of the last two months, maybe?”

“Two months?” Chloe asked, trying to think. Wasn’t that around when they’d started getting together?

“Not  _longer_ than that. Any longer and his symptoms would be  _far_ more advanced. As it is he doesn’t…” The doctor looked, sympathetically at Chloe. “Well, he really doesn’t have long. All we can do, at this late stage, is make him as comfortable as we can.” He looked, pointedly at York. “That includes  _un-_ cuffing him, I hope.”

“I’ll have to check how secure the room is. If it looks okay, I suppose we can just go with a guard outside the door.”

“Whatever he’s done, I don’t think he’ll live to stand trial.” The doctor said, getting up. “If you’d like to follow me.”

He led them down the corridors until they arrived at a door marked ‘Isolation‘.

“Only Agent York, from this point.” The doctor said. “Mr. Pierce has expressly forbidden either you, Ms. Decker or Mr. Morningstar to visit him. You must understand that we’re trying to keep any distress to a minimum.”

“We’ll wait for you here.” Lucifer said to York.

“It might be a while.” The doctor said. “We have to get suited up. It’s a sterile environment.”

“That’s alright.” Lucifer said, indicating a seating area. “I see someone I used to know.”

Chloe turned to look and gasped. When they’d walked by the seats, they’d been empty. Now, there was a young girl, lounging, feet up on one seat, clearly engrossed in her phone. She looked as though she had been there a while.

“I’ve seen you before.” Chloe said, in a dazed voice.

“Detective?” Lucifer said, looking at her and the girl with growing horror.

“You’re wearing the same clothes.” Chloe continued, taking in the black t-shirt with the white cat face on it, the khaki skirt, clearly cut down from a pair of pants, the red…

“Rae-rae.” Lucifer said, sternly. “I’d ask why you’re here but I already know.”

“Hi, Lu. Chloe.”

“It was when I was poisoned… you were by my bed and I thought you were there to see another patient…” Chloe continued as though she hadn’t heard.

“I  _was_ but I was  _also_ there to make sure nothing went wrong with you and Lu. Oh, hey that sort of rhymes…” The girl said, standing up and tucking her phone into her back pocket.

“Detective, meet my sister. Azrael. The Angel of Death.”

Astonishingly, Chloe started to laugh. Rae-rae looked at her, owlishly, making Chloe laugh harder.

“I’m sorry,” She said, at last. “I just thought you’d be, you know,  _scary_.”

“Do you really think that people who are  _dying_ , need to be scared…  _more_? Isn’t it a little bit… you know… redundant?”

“Detective, you’re taking this surprisingly well.” Lucifer said, wondering, briefly, if Chloe had been more exposed to his wings than he’d thought

“If you’d bothered to listen to your voicemails, you’d realize that I  _know_.” Chloe said. “I spent part of the night, ‘talking to you’ about it. One sidedly, I admit. Who says you shouldn’t mix pain pills with alcohol?”

“My phone’s broken. It got shot.” He explained. He looked at Rae-rae. “You’re here for Cain?”

“I’ve been waiting for him a long time, Lu. Hell has, too.”

“ _He_ doesn’t think he’s going there. He feels no guilt.”

“Oh, Lu… how many did you  _see_ , down there? Evil people who were convinced of their own righteousness? It isn’t  _just_ guilt, not since poor Abel…”

“Had  _him_ back up  _here_ a while ago.”

“I know. I carried him to The Silver City, myself. He should  _never_ have been in Hell but the system was new and he felt  _so_ guilty about provoking his brother.”

“He blamed  _himself_ for his own murder?” Lucifer was shocked.

“Poor dope. Kept thinking what if he’d been kinder, what if he hadn’t pushed Cain… what if, what if… Hey Lu, what if  _I_ hadn’t run into Mother while  _you_ were busy killing yourself and getting stuck in Hell?”

Lucifer sat down, heavily and looked up at his sister.

“She never told me that you… she let me think…”

“That she gave a shit? Oh yeah, she  _gave_ a shit, she needed  _you_ to storm the gates and help Amenadiel kill Father. Y’know, Father thought that you’d leave her down there but when you  _didn’t_ … he was sure, then, that you wouldn’t do what she wanted. Y’got too much compassion, Lu. You always did.”

“She almost killed Linda, if I’d left her in Hell…”

“ _I_ suspended time and let Amenadiel think it was him. Father was pretty furious. Rumour has it, Amenadiel got torn a new one, when he finally made it back.”

“He thought Dad was testing him, thought  _I_ was the test.”

“Oh, you  _were_ , being with  _you_ was  _supposed_ to show him how  _not_ to be such an asshole.”

Chloe cleared her throat, two pairs of dark eyes turned to her.

“When we get more time, Lucifer Morningstar,  _we_ really need to talk.” She carefully handed them a cup of vending machine coffee each and watched, sipping her own, with a smile, as Lucifer shared the contents of his flask between the two cups…

***

 

 


	9. Maze

 

Voicemail #1

Hi, it’s me; just calling to check that you’re okay. I couldn’t call before because I’ve been stuck at the hospital waiting for X-rays and  _then_ stuck in interrogation with  _Agent_ Douche,  _you’d_ probably call him - an old school friend of Dan’s - I’m on my way home, now. Call me back?

***

“This isn’t your car.” Chloe said, as Lucifer opened the driver’s side and got in.

“No it’s mine.” York said, getting in the back, graciously letting Chloe sit up front with Lucifer.

“So why are you letting  _him_ drive?” Chloe asked, getting in.

“Because  _I’ve_ only had twenty minutes sleep in the last forty-eight hours and  _he_ knows where we’re going.”

“He’s been  _drinking_.” Chloe said, remembering the spiked coffee that Lucifer and his sister had had.

“Your point? Do the rules even  _apply_ to him?” York said, wearily, snapping his seatbelt shut.

“Why  _wouldn’t_ they..? Oh. You know.” Chloe turned to Lucifer. “You told  _him_? You‘ve only known him five minutes and you  _told_ him?” She sounded angry and betrayed.

“I tell  _everyone_ , Detective. It’s up to  _them_ if they believe me.”

“You didn’t show him… anything?”

“I didn’t have to. He’s a true believer as well as a  _profiler_ \- a people watcher - he knew I was…  _wrong_.”

“Did I  _ever_.” York put in, from the backseat behind Chloe. “When I thought he was  _human_ , I was terrified; as soon as I knew he  _wasn’t_ , he stopped being scary.”

“Not the  _usual_ reaction. I should warn you, though I  _can_ be frightening.” Lucifer assured him, steering the car away from the hospital and towards Linda’s apartment.

“I don’t doubt it. The fact that you exist  _at all_ is fairly devastating.”

“And Pierce really  _is_ Cain, from The Bible?” Chloe asked, not sure if she truly wanted to know.

“Yes. It appears that  _that_ is why he’s dying.” Lucifer told her.

“Because he grew up millennia ago and  _now_ he has to deal with modern viruses and bacteria.” York added.

“But if he’d lived that long… what changed?” Chloe asked.

“He broke Dad’s curse and lost his immortality.”

“How?” Chloe  _almost_ didn’t want to know but couldn’t stop herself from asking.

“I’m not sure precisely  _how_ but I do know  _when_ … the night he broke up with  _you_.”

“I was about to tell him that I lo… and  _he_ said I wasn’t worth it and left. How did  _that_ break his curse?”

“I’m guessing he’d started to feel guilty about manipulating you into loving him and then decided to stop. A selfless act broke his curse. Am I right?” This last question, York addressed to Lucifer.

“I believe so, yes.”

“I really  _did_ think I loved him, for a short time, even though I  _really_ lo… how  _could_ he manipulate me like that?”

“He was desperate.” Lucifer said, at the same time as York said:

“He was drugging you.”

***

Voicemail #2

Lucifer?                   Sorry it’s so late or is it early?                      I had a dream and now      I can’t get back to sleep.                     I’m worried about you.                       I worry that maybe you went to Vegas                    or somewhere       I can’t             follow.                        I’ve been  _so_ stupid.                   I don’t know             _anything_ anymore.                     I called Linda, earlier.             She confirmed      _everything_.                       She’s got Maze with her, hurt, she says but not badly.                           _Please_ call me.                                         Even if you’re just saying goodbye…

***

“You wait in the car, for now, Darling.” Lucifer told York, when they arrived at Linda’s. “I’ll arrange you an introduction. It’ll go better if you’re  _not_ a witness to her humiliation.”

“Chloe gets to go?” York tried  _not_ to sound childish but failed.

“The Detective has  _earned_ it.” Lucifer said, striding up to the door, Chloe behind him, then opening it as though it  _wasn’t_ locked.

An expensive Japanese carving knife buried itself in the door frame next to Lucifer’s head. He swiftly pulled it out.

“Thank you, Mazikeen. Now, if you can lose all your  _other_ weaponry.” He said, smoothly.

An array of cutlery hit the floor, followed by Maze, herself. She folded at the knees and sank to the carpet at Lucifer’s feet, head bowed, close enough to kiss his shoes, her hands held behind her back in a posture that screamed submission.

Chloe and Linda watched, their discomfort palpable.

Maze started to speak, a harsh guttural language that neither human had heard before.

“English, Mazikeen. You haven’t only offended  _me_.” Lucifer corrected.

“Forgive me, my Lord of Hell and Worthy Humans.” She nodded to where Linda and Chloe were positioned in the room but didn’t raise her head. “You have all trusted me and offered me nothing but honourable friendship and I have repaid each of you with treachery.”

“You can start with Doctor Linda.” Lucifer said.

“We already talked it out, before you got here.” Linda said, hurriedly, blushing slightly.

“The Detective, then.”

“I disrespected your home, I deeply offended your ex-husband and  _worse_ The Little Human - my first friend on Earth. I helped an enemy of my Lord to manipulate you…”

“Did you  _know_ he was drugging my food and maybe Trixie‘s too, Maze? Did you  _help_ him with that?” Chloe was furious.

“ _No_. I had no idea, I would have killed him for  _that_ alone.” Maze’s shock couldn’t have been faked. “I only talked him up, to you, made him sound more appealing… and spoiled your bachelorette party. Only so he’d break his curse and I could kill him.” Realizing how this sounded, she added: “He  _wanted_ me to kill him.”

“You would have  _killed_ him for drugging our food?” Chloe asked, disbelief in her voice. “How is what  _he_ did any different from what  _you_ did when you sent Trixie to school with  _pot_ brownies?”

On the floor, Maze trembled as she realized the truth of that.

“What reparation do you demand, Detective?” Lucifer asked.

“You need to do some major grovelling to Trixie. Er… verbal grovelling, not like  _this_. She needs to understand that it wasn’t  _her_ fault that someone she lo… er.. cares about, turned on her that way.” Chloe said, to Maze. “Also, I recently found out that you’re an  _actual_ demon…”

“I would  _never_ hurt The Little Human.”

“You  _have_ hurt her, isn’t that one of the reasons why you’re on the  _floor_ , right now?”

“We talked about emotional pain, Maze.” Linda said, gently. “How you can hurt a person, badly, without doing anything physical to them.”

“I was trying to hurt her father, I didn’t know she was going to  _hear_ , he was telling me off and I  _knew_ he was in the right but I wanted to hit back at him…”

“Maybe if you explain  _that_ to Trixie.”

“Agreed. If I’m still able to after…”

“After what?” Chloe asked.

“After  _I’ve_ dealt with her treachery.” Lucifer said, quietly.

***

 


	10. The Talk

Voicemail #3

Please,                  at  _least_ call and                   tell me you’re all right.                  I found a feather           caught in my jacket.                  There’s blood on it and it’s             glowing.            The feather, not the blood.                     _Glowing._ I remember there were                _hundreds_ of feathers and blood and then               they were just  _gone_.                 Did you get shot?                      You said once that your wings                were back     I forget when you said that.                                                 _Please_ don’t have left.

***

“If you could drop The Detective and I at Lux, Mazikeen, then you can drive Agent York wherever he wishes to go. Let him sleep if he needs to.” Lucifer said, getting in the back of York’s car with Chloe. York had relocated to the front passenger seat, once an agreement had been reached.

Judging by Linda and Chloe’s reactions to Maze’s ritual plea for forgiveness, Lucifer was fairly sure that any punishment that he  _should_ be doling out, would be met with disapproval. He’d therefore decided that Maze was to be York’s bodyguard for the duration of the ‘Sinnerman’ investigation, thus shelving the problem, for now. This would give her time  _and_ the opportunity to prove her contrition. Lucifer had made it  _very_ clear to her that if anything bad happened to York, on this case, it had better have happened to Maze,  _first_.

What would happen to her after the case was over? He’d have to think about it.

***

“So,” York said, conversationally, as Maze steered the car away from Lux, Chloe and Lucifer still visible in the rear-view mirror. “You’re a demon?”

“You’re a believer?”

“Apparently.”

“Yeah, I‘m a demon.  _He_ tell you?”

“He did, yeah.”

“You got a problem with it?” She asked, all defiance and aggression.

“Not at  _all_. You’re on the side of  _right_ ; helping to bring fugitives to justice.“ He added, at the look she gave him.

“I hunt down humans for money, not that thing  _you_ justsaid.”

“Also, I’ve seen you fight.” He said, shrugging. “Impressive. And hot.” This last bit, while true, was also an attempt at pacifying her.

“Seen?”

“CCTV footage from Pierce’s lair.”

“Can I get a copy of that? It’d be  _great_ advertising on my website.”

“Maybe. You’d have to put a warning on it, though; I’ve never seen  _that_ many justifiable homicides that  _didn’t_ involve firearms.”

“I’m not in any trouble, then? It might make it hard to work with you, if I am.”

“No.  _Obvious_ self defence, even with no visible injuries.” He gestured at her healed skin. “I’m really hoping that we can hire you to help take down the more  _difficult_ members of The Sinnerman Network.”

“When you say difficult..?”

“I mean dangerous. These people are near the top of the organization, have done G…  _fuck_ knows what, to get there and have a lot to lose.”

“Saying  _fuck_ instead of God. Interesting choice of save.” Maze smirked at his discomfort.

“I wouldn’t want to get his attention.”

“You don’t share the majority of your species’ opinion of him?”

“In my line of work, you quickly lose faith in the idea of a benevolent god; also, I’ve met  _two_ of his sons. The one that’s  _meant_ to be evil incarnate; doesn’t lie, brought me a pillow from his  _own_ bed when I was asleep at a table and brought me food on a tray with a napkin and a rose.”

“And the  _other_ one?” Maze asked, smirking at the mental image of Lucifer putting a rose on the tray just because that’s how he always served his  _overnight_ guests.

“Looked me in the eye, smiled and  _lied_ through his smile. Slippery bastard.”

“Amenadiel.” Maze said, sounding as if she was trying to spit a bug off her tongue.

“Some  _history_ , there?”

“He’s at the root of why I’m on the outs with Lucifer. Also, he’s been manipulating and messing with my friend.”

“By messing, you mean..?” York’s eyes widened in surprise as Maze nodded. “Odd. I was getting more of a  _eunuch_ vibe off him.”

Maze laughed. York was very perceptive.

“Lucifer, on the other hand,” York continued, shaking his head at the notion. “It’s like he  _invented_ sex.”

“He  _did_. Sex for  _pleasure,_ anyway; separated it from the animal instinct to breed. Course, you humans had to screw it up, inventing commitment, deception, jealousy,  _shame_.” She rolled her eyes.

“So we should all be wandering around naked, having sex with whoever we want?”

“Works for me.”

“What about diseases?”

“That’s down to the Mother.” Maze said, frowning.

“Mother?”

“Of all creation… Lucifer’s mom, well, all of ‘em’s mom.” York still looked puzzled. “God’s psycho-bitch wife?  _Ex_ -wife. He took it badly when she sent plagues to humanity.”

“God’s ex- _wife_? Oh, yeah, I get it, it‘s  _fun_ to mess with the true believer.” York said, laughing, imagining that Maze was teasing him.

Maze laughed too, maybe this assignment would be entertaining, after all.

***

Voicemail #4

Remember the first time I saw your scars?                              That was when                  I started to                   fall in love          with you.                      Suddenly you weren’t              what I thought, at  _all_.                            Please Lucifer                I want               _need_ to understand.                What you said about               avoiding dealing with              the way you feel.                      What way  _is_ that?

***

“You hungry, Detective? Only I find these question and answer things  _usually_ go better over a meal.” Lucifer said, as they exited the elevator. He was shedding his jacket as he spoke and wasn’t expecting to get tackled.

Chloe wound her arms around him and buried her face in his shirt. Holding back her feelings was impossible, now that they were finally alone.

“I was so scared that you were hurt.” She said, tears spilling into the silk. “All those feathers and the  _blood_ … promise me that you’re all right.”

“Detective, you can  _see_ that I’m all right. What’s brought this on?” Not that he was complaining, as he held her and tentatively kissed her hair.

“Your wings got shot, didn’t they?” Chloe said, looking up at him, the look in her eyes daring him to lie.

“Yes. They did.” He said. “But it’s all right, they healed as soon as Amenadiel got me far enough away.”

“Because  _I_ make you vulnerable.” She said. A statement, not a question.

“Who told you?” Lucifer tried not to sound angry but he knew that there wasn’t a chance that  _Linda_ had broken confidentiality, maybe  _Maze_?

“You did.”

Okay. He hadn’t been expecting that.

“That was…”  _So long ago…_ He thought. He made a decision and led her to the kitchen. “Sit. Talk,  _ask_. I’ll answer… and cook. Anything in particular?”

“Whatever’s easy.” Chloe said, making herself comfortable.

“So,” He said, peering into his fridge. “You re-evaluated what I said, that night, after the charity thing.”

“I’ve re-evaluated everything you said to me  _ever_.” She smiled. “Once I put everything in context… once I accepted that you had told me the  _literal_ truth since day one… It was like the moment when we’re working a case, the moment when everything falls into place and I realize that there can have been only  _one_ way where  _all_ the evidence makes sense.”

“And then you go and arrest someone.”

“The  _right_ someone…”

“Not the  _obvious_ someone...”

“The  _guilty_ someone.” Chloe smiled, hearing her work ethic spelled out between them. “You  _never_ had any trouble understanding  _that_ aspect of me.”

“The guilty should be punished.”

“So, I’m on a  _helipad_ of all places, for my moment of clarity, having been  _flown_ by the  _actual_ Devil, who’s left me there, so he can go back to the scene and…” She looked at him, expectantly.

“Sort out Cain and his minions without the risk of senselessly dying.”

“Which explains the bullet holes in your shirt. What about the cut on your arm?”

“Mazikeen’s Hell-forged blade can wound me… kill me. That’s why Cain took it from her.”

“Were you planning on killing him?”

“Not really  _planning_ …”

“Then I’m glad I got there in time to make sure that you didn’t.”

“I’m sure Cain isn’t in the least bit grateful.” Lucifer said, whisking eggs with a fork, his hand a blur.

“It wasn’t for  _him_ , it was for you. If you’d killed him, even in self defence… it would have made everything so much more complicated.”

“And now he’s dying, anyway. I hoped Dad would be angry with me if  _I_ killed him but, maybe not.”

“Why would you  _want_ your father angry with you?” Chloe asked him, shivering slightly at the thought of who his father was.

“I wanted him to take away my wings and give me back my Devil face but I’ve come to realize that maybe I took  _that_ away, myself.”

“It’s been gone since you were in the desert, yes?”

“Yes. I woke up with my wings back but I didn’t find out that my face was gone until I tried to show it to you.”

“I think I already saw it. The night I shot you.”

“The reflection? That’s what tipped the balance when I asked you to shoot me?”

“I think so. For an instant, I believed you. Then you bled and…”

“Your rational view of the world remained intact.”

“Yeah. How long did it take you to figure out what had happened?”

“Maze and I  _both_ had theories but it was all confirmed the night of the charity gala.”

“You bled on my floor.”

“Sorry. I didn’t realize.”

“Only a few drops but cops notice things like that.” She smiled. “Then you tried to stay away from me?”

“I didn’t know what you were. When I finally found out, I took it… badly.”

“Found out what?” Chloe was puzzled, now.

“That you’re a miracle.”

She made an exasperated sound.

“You’ve been listening to my mother, haven’t you? She’s  _always_ telling that miracle story.”

“So you  _did_ know?”

“Oh,  _that’s_ what you meant, in my bathroom, that night, before my bloody nose distracted us both. You‘d seen my mom?”

“In a manner of speaking. There was a photograph of her… with Amenadiel, from before you were conceived. Dad sent him to bless her.“

Chloe was glad that she was already sitting down.

“You mean I really  _am_?” Her voice was shaking. “ _Why_? Was I meant to  _hurt_ you? I would  _never_. Is that why you  _left_ , after?”

“Yes, you really are. I still don’t  _know_ why. And you don’t have to hurt me deliberately, just living your short mortal life and ending up where I can never follow, will hurt me immeasurably.” He reached for two plates, behaving as though he  _wasn’t_ baring his soul. “And I  _left_ , to give you back your freewill.”

“To take away my  _choice_ , you mean.”

“I didn’t want you  _forced_ to care about me, by my Dad or anyone else.”

“So you went and got married so  _you_ could force me to  _stop_ caring. Did you realize how much it would hurt me?”

“I thought that your feelings for me were manufactured, so no, I didn’t realize. If it helps, I was hurting, too.”

“It doesn’t.”

They ate in silence, neither of them wanting to talk for, at least, the duration of their meal.

“We don’t seem to have much luck, eating together here, do we.” Lucifer said, when he’d loaded the dishwasher.

“Oh,  _yeah_ , your damned chateaubriand was the only reason  _I_ said  _yes_ to Pierce.”

“What? I actually  _caused_ …”

“You made me so  _mad_. All the things you said about him not deserving me and  _I_ just wanted you to tell me how  _you_ felt. You know so  _much_ about me, how can you  _not_ know that no one could win me with  _stuff_? Did you  _really_ think that treating me like some kind of  _gold-digger_ was the way to go?”

“I didn’t feel I could tell you how much I… I’m not  _worthy_ of you and by the time Linda changed my mind about telling you… and I went to your place… it was too late.”

“Not worthy. You told me that before, on the beach, that time.”

“And you inexplicably kissed me.”

“Because you listed all the things a ‘worthy’ person should  _know_ and  _feel_ about me and you were describing  _yourself_.”

“Someone as  _good_ as you, that’s not me.”

“Oh, but The  _actual_ Sinnerman  _is_?”

“He told me he wasn’t involved, that his right-hand man went rogue and…” Lucifer’s voice tailed off as he saw the expression on Chloe’s face. “And he was your choice.” He finished, quietly, unable to meet her eyes.

“He was lying to you.” Chloe said, trying  _really_ hard  _not_ to talk to him as though he were a gullible idiot but failing miserably. “And he  _wasn’t_ my choice;  _you_ were my choice, he was my  _rebound_. I thought you didn‘t  _want_ me so I was  _settling_.”

“Why would you think I didn’t want you?” His face was the picture of puzzled, clueless innocence and Chloe couldn’t help herself. She lost it.

Her laughter went on for a long time, long enough for Lucifer to wonder if she might need medical assistance - didn’t people sometimes  _die_ of laughing?

“Please, Detective.” He said, pulling her into his arms and stroking her hair in an attempt to calm her down. “Tell me what I can do? Do you need to visit the emergency room?” This question seemed to make her worse, so, picking her up, he carried her to his bedroom and lay her down on the bed. “I’ll phone for medical advice.” He said, fumbling his new phone off his nightstand.

“No, Lucifer, I’m alright, really.” Chloe gasped, having trouble catching her breath. Her brush with hysteria seemed to have been cathartic.

He looked at her, doubtfully. Her face was red and her eyes were streaming with tears, making a mess of her make-up. As ever, he thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

“Are you sure, Detective?”

“Chloe.” She corrected him, winding her arms around his neck and pulling him down for a searing kiss.

“Chloe?” He said, when they broke the kiss, his face a picture of confusion. “Don’t you want to talk some more?”

“We can talk later.” She kissed him again, more forcefully, this time. “I should have done this a long time ago.”

“Done what?” Lucifer asked, staring at her in wonder.

“Taken you to bed.”

***

Voicemail #5

I called Lux.     The man who answered said that           no one had seen you.        I’d go to your penthouse        but I’m not fit to drive there’s no one to baby-sit Trixie and I          I’m        (sobbing)       scared that they’ll be sheets like before           (sobbing)                Lucifer?              (whispering)                       I love you…

***


	11. Stopping and starting

 

 

They’d turned down the sound of the machines, at  _his_ insistence, so now he couldn’t hear that detestable  _bleeping_. What was the point of it anyway?  _He_ knew he was alive and he was being monitored remotely, so  _they_ knew he was alive.

For the first time in, it felt like forever, he was feeling  _good_. Better class of drugs, maybe? He felt  _strong_ , like he hadn’t felt since… since he had lost the mark. Wait, was it  _back_?

His arm was still elevated but it felt  _whole_ ; he could wiggle his fingers. He pulled it out of its sling and lay it across his chest, feeling at it with his left hand. He  _was_ whole again. He couldn’t  _see_ it - the room was dark - but he felt sure he could  _feel_ the subtle pulse of the circular mark.  _How_ had it come back? The answer came to him almost instantly.

He had stopped loving Chloe.

The relief of it. He was  _free_. Obviously he’d have to start again - the FBI had all his files, now - he’d have to build a  _new_ empire, stay one step ahead of Lucifer… Maybe  _not_ , though; what could Lucifer do to him,  _now_?

A slight movement next to his bed caught his eye. He sat up and turned to look. Illuminated in the light of her phone screen, the girl looked young and sort of nerdy. She wasn’t wearing one of the special suits that he’d gotten so used to seeing lately, just the ubiquitous white lab coat. The hospital staff must  _know_ he was on the mend. He’d have to leave before someone came to arrest him again.

“Who are you?” He asked.

She looked up from her phone.

“I’m a friend of Ella’s.”

“Lopez.” He growled. “She tried so hard to be nice to me. Annoying.  _She_ here too?”

“It’s the middle of the night, what do  _you_ think?” She slipped her phone into her pocket. “She was excited when she heard you were transferring to L.A. She really admired you,  _then;_ made me more curious to meet you.” She shrugged, as though nothing mattered. “I’d offer to get you coffee but that vending machine stuff is like a foretaste of Hell - even  _with_ my brother’s best scotch in it.”

“We don’t have time, anyway.” He said, an idea coming to him. “You and I are going to walk out of here, together and no one is going to stop us.”

“Sounds like a plan.” She said, her fingers closing over his right hand. For an instant she felt freezing cold against his skin but then it was like they were the same temperature again. She pulled slightly and helped him ease himself out of the bed.

No one tried to stop them leaving.

No one saw them…

***

“So,” Lucifer said, his chest rumbling under Chloe’s ear. “Would you care to tell me what was so funny?”

“Sorry about that; ever since I found out that it’s all true, I’ve been on the edge of hysteria, I think.” She pressed a kiss to his warm skin. “I really don’t have a problem with you… being  _you_ … it’s just everything  _else_ being true and now, finding out that… Well, it’s hard for an atheist to find out that she’s a miracle and owes her existence to an entity she doesn’t believe in.”

“And that’s funny, because?”

“Oh,  _that’s_ not funny. What’s funny is  _you_. You’ve been around forever and you’re completely  _clueless_. You out Pierce as the Sinnerman and then believe him when he says he’s  _not_ the head of a crime empire.”

“Hey,  _you_ thought he was a ‘good man’.”

“He was drugging my food, what’s  _your_ excuse?”

“I’m not used to humans being able to lie to me, although to be fair, I never met one as  _old_ as him, before.”

“How  _did_ you find out who he was?”

“The phoney Sinnerman had a photograph - himself as a child - Cain’s arm was around him. The arm with the mark. He’d been hiding it under a forces tattoo.”

“Good detective work, you should have told me.”

“Yes, well, if I’d told you what I suspected, you wouldn’t have believed me. Instead, I called him, asked him to stop by Lux, then, when he wasn’t expecting it, I stabbed him with a kitchen knife.”

“ _Lucifer!_ ”

“Straight into the heart. He died right there on my floor. Lot of blood. If I‘d done  _that_ in front of you, you‘d have probably shot me. Again.”

“What if you’d been  _wrong_ about him?”

“I knew I wasn’t.”

“Oh,  _yeah_ , like you  _knew_ it wouldn’t hurt you if  _I_ shot you, look how  _that_ worked out. What if I’d shot  _you_ through the heart?”

“Then I’d have  _died_ , gone back to Hell, used my Pentecostal coin to come back to Earth…”

“When Malcolm shot you..?”

“Ah, slight complication,  _he_ had my coin at that point. We had a deal, he and I,  _he_ wouldn’t shoot me and  _I’d_ let him have a get of Hell free card. He had to balls it up, though, couldn’t keep his head down and live his life - make the most of his second chance - he shot me, I made a deal with my Dad and came back in time to stop Malcolm from killing you.”

“I remember your coin, I thought it was like a fidget thing. It’s gone, now?”

“Yes but I’ve got my  _wings_ back. I can fly in or out of Hell anytime.”

“Did you really have Maze cut them off?” Chloe said, gently stroking the feathers of the wing that was curled around her body.

“On the beach, the night I decided to stay in L.A.”

“I’m glad that they grew back.”

“Because I saved your life with them? _I’m_ glad about that, too.”

“Yeah but mostly because they’re a  _part_ of you,  _limbs_ ; you can’t just go cutting them off like they’re  _nothing_.”

“I’ll never cut them off again.” He said, wrapping them closer around her.

“Good. So, were you serious when you asked ‘ _Why would you think I didn’t want you?_ ’ coz I’d have thought it was obvious.”

“I’ve never made a secret of the fact that I want you.”

“But this is more than just sex, right? For you, I mean.”

“Oh, Chloe.” His voice held so much pain.

“Because it is for  _me_ , Lucifer. I love you.” She looked up into his eyes. “Wow, that was so much easier the second time.”

“When was the  _first_ time?”

“In one of the voicemails… I  _think_. Between exhaustion, painkillers and wine, I was fairly out of it but I  _think_ I told you.”

“Shame I never got it.”

“No, it’s probably better that you didn’t. They were disjointed and irrational but they helped me clarify things, in my own head, you know?”

“I do love you…” He said, gently.

“I’m sensing a ‘ _but’_ coming.”

“I can’t be sure that any of it’s real. My Dad…”

“Can  _make_ you fall in love?”

“Well, no, not  _me_ …”

“But you think he made  _me_ love  _you_.”

“How else would someone like  _you_ love…  _Ow_!”

Chloe had pinched him,  _hard_.

“Lucifer, why doesn’t your ‘ _desire’_ thing work on me?”

“I’m not sure, because you’re a miracle, maybe.”

“And when we first met, I found you repellent.”

“Repulsive on a chemical level.” He agreed, smirking.

“Yeah, my point is, that I grew to  _know_ you,  _like_ you,  _respect_ you and  _love_ you. Over  _time_. I think that  _proves_ that I had a choice because if your ‘ _carnal fascination’_ had been dazzling me from the start, it  _wouldn’t_ have been my choice and  _this_...” She waved a hand to indicate their nakedness, the rumpled bed and the hours of pleasure they had given each other. “Would have happened a lot sooner.”

“Maybe.” He still sounded unsure.

“Alright, let’s put it another way. How many women turn you down? If you went into Lux, one night and just asked  _every_ woman in the place to sleep with you, how many would say ‘No’?”

“Only the true sixes.”

“Sixes?”

“On the Kinsey scale. The ones who exclusively respond sexually  _only_ to other women.”

“So if you asked all the  _men_ , it would only be the  _zeros_ who said no.”

“That’s right. Oh and  _most_ of the Xs - male  _or_ female, the ones who aren’t interested in sex, at all. Sometimes one of  _those_ will make an exception, in my case.”

“So, think carefully, before you answer  _this_ one: am I a six?”

“No, of course not - a  _zero_ for all  _I_ know - definitely  _not_ a six.”

“I’m  _not_ a zero but, as you say, I’m not a six. So..?”

“How did you turn me down all those times?”

“Because I have freewill and a choice. You turned  _me_ down once.”

“Because you were drunk and it wouldn’t have been right…”

“But you wanted me.”

“Always.”

“So  _you_ have a choice, too.”

“Yes.” He breathed and in the sound of that  _one_ word, it was as if he’d found the meaning of the universe.

“No more running?”

“No.”

“No more pushing me away?”

“No.”

“And if this  _is_ a plot of your Father’s, we’ll face it together.”

“Yes.”

***

 


	12. Epilogue

 

“Hello, my friend.” Lucifer said, his voice soft in an environment devoid of the air that a  _human_ would have required to vocalize. “It’s been a long time.”

The star hummed with pleasure and welcome. Lucifer flew closer.

“I’ve brought you something. Something I need destroyed. Utterly.”

The star hummed some more.

“No, darling, I won’t make a habit of it.”

More humming.

“No, I didn’t choose you because you were closest. I’ve been living in your light for a few years, now and I’ve been meaning to visit.” He listened some more. “Yes. A mere blink of the eye, for you. I needed to come _before_ the humans send their latest piece of hardware. No, it won’t harm you, they just want to look but it wouldn’t do for them to see  _me_ out here.”

Louder humming.

“No, what  _I’ve_ brought won’t harm you either. It’s just an empty meat sack. The humans like to  _bury_ these things but I thought a very special cremation was in order. The funeral home owed me a favour, so no one else knows.”

He pushed the organic remains of the world’s first born human towards the star and watched as the corpse was sucked in and swallowed.

He sighed. Cain’s soul was safely secured in Hell and his body was dust in the centre of the sun.

It was over.

　

　

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who commented, left kudos and/or otherwise enjoyed. Like all of you, I'm looking forward to season 4, when we (hopefully) find out what REALLY happens after. Who knows, I might be inspired to write a sequel to this. :)


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